


things to leave out of your mission reports

by openended (orphan_account)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, IN SPACE!, Masturbation, Spaceships, Zero-gravity sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/openended
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the 2011 TFLN ficathon:  <i>(703):  I wonder what it would be like to masturbate in space</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	things to leave out of your mission reports

Sam drums her fingers on the armrest of the seat. It’s another five hours to Earth at this rate, and she still has three hours to go before she’s in range to let them know that she did get off the planet just fine so they can stop planning a rescue and, by the way, she’s bringing home a present. Maybe this time they’ll hang on to the cargo ship for more than ten minutes before destroying it in some spectacular fashion.

She would read. She keeps a book in her offworld pack not quite for occasions just like this one (because being cut off from her team and the gate by a horde of angry Jaffa and having to find her own way home was not exactly anticipated when she got up this morning), but as an insurance policy against being bored while she isn’t needed to keep watch or shoot anything or figure out science no one else on the team will understand. But somehow in the run-run-as-fast-as-you-can-from-the-cranky-aliens confusion at camp, she’d grabbed Daniel’s pack. And she’s already been through it, twice, and found nothing to read.

Well, she found plenty to read. None of it was in English.

She smirks as, out of nowhere, a conversation with a NASA friend pops into her mind.

_“Yeah, we’re not supposed to have sex on the station. It’s in the rules and everything. Something about morale and international politics. I wonder what it’s like to masturbate in space, though. No rules about that. There are cameras everywhere, though, and the station’s awfully small…”_

She laughs to herself and thinks that masturbating in space, at least right now, wouldn’t be much different than on Earth. The décor is certainly a change from the norm and the purple-blue of hyperspace isn’t quite the dim bedroom light she’s used to, but functionally it would be the same.

And then she gets an idea.

It takes her forty-five minutes to figure out how to deactivate the artificial gravity, and another fifteen minutes to make sure she knows how to turn it back on again. By the time she’s ready to test her theory, there’s an anticipatory throbbing between her legs.

She switches the two crystals and promptly loses her balance. She doesn’t fall, just sort of floats sideways a few inches off the floor until she hits a wall. She bounces off of it.

“Huh,” she says to herself, beginning to realize that she hadn’t quite thought this through. After a minute or two of contemplation, she has it figured out.

She thinks. Hopes. Because otherwise, she’s going to have to put the artificial gravity back on and do something about the wetness between her thighs and then she’s just masturbating to kill time, which is less interesting (and will make her shake her head at herself for at least a few days) than a sexual scientific experiment.

That’s what she’s decided this is.

She awkwardly makes her way to the pack, sitting an inch and a half above the floor right where she left it, the vibrations of the ship making it barely float. Thankfully, there’s rope and it’s easily accessible. With her teeth and her right hand, she loops the rope around her left wrist in a secure knot she knows she can undo easily. She kicks off the wall and overshoots the center control chair and ends up turning around and pushing off the front view screen.

She catches the chair this time and dims the lights before tying the loose ends of the rope to the chair. She might end up doing this upside down, but at least she won’t accidentally run into any walls or bump her head on the ceiling.

Some part of her thinks that this is a rather compromising position to be caught in if she runs into trouble out here.

Sam bites her lip as she slides her free hand into her pants. This is, without a doubt, the most ridiculous thing she’s ever done.

But, _oh_.

Every twist and push of her hips causes her entire body to move and turn and she drops her head back onto the air with a moan.

She takes a moment, her hips involuntarily bucking at the sudden loss of contact, to untie her wrist. If she bumps into something, she decides the bruise will be well worth it.

It’s strange, not having gravity to work against and not having anything to hold her steady. She’s been in zero-g before, but that was fully clothed and in front of people, but memory serves her well and she quickly learns how to use her body to achieve the reaction she wants.

Breathy moans and whimpers echo around the small room and she’s somewhere near the back, by the ceiling, with two fingers inside of her and her thumb on her clit, when she feels her orgasm suddenly within reach. She opens her eyes and the physicist inside of her raises her hand to say _uh, you’re gonna hit the ceiling if you keep this up_. With a gentle push of her foot on the ceiling, she starts slowly heading back toward the floor, out of danger from an orgasm-induced broken nose.

Within seconds, she’s coming on her fingers, writhing in mid-air like some sort of movie visual effect.

She slowly withdraws her hand and discovers that she’s now near the front viewscreen. Hyperspace is rather pretty through the orgasmic afterglow. Her head spins, but she’s not sure whether that’s the orgasm or the lack of gravity.

Through a series of pushes and taps, she makes her way back to the crystal controls to re-initialize the artificial gravity. Her ears pop and she drops to the floor with an undignified thump. She zips up her pants and rubs her hip where it hit the floor. She replaces the rope in Daniel’s pack and sits back down in the chair, now needing to kill an hour and a half before being able to contact Earth.

She frowns and rotates her shoulder when it starts to ache.

Yes, she’s definitely going to have strange bruises all over her body. Goa’uld cargo ships were _not_ designed with zero-gravity masturbation in mind.

Definitely worth it, though.


End file.
